


Yielding to the Dark

by Frufrusc



Series: Yielding to the Dark [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Spoilers Throne of Glass, Torture, Under the Mountain - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28263327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frufrusc/pseuds/Frufrusc
Summary: Under the Mountain Amarantha has figure out Rhysands secret and enjoys herself by making a grand reveal out of it and designings a torture scheme for Feyre threatening to make her fear everything the Nightcourt represents.*Spoilers from ACOMAF, also the turn of events is inspired by EOS from Throne of Glass, so if you are currently reading and don´t want any spoilers you should be past the fifth book. All the characters belong to Sarah J Maas, enjoy!!
Relationships: Amarantha & Tamlin (ACoTaR), Amarantha/Rhysand (ACoTaR), Amarantha/Tamlin (ACoTaR), Feyre Archeron & Morrigan, Feyre Archeron & Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Tamlin
Series: Yielding to the Dark [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2070507
Comments: 13
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All the character belong to Sarah J. Maas (AKA, the queen).  
> Please tell if you´d like a next chapter! ;)

After Rhysand had healed her arm and shown her his wings, Feyre had fought with the idea that maybe he wasn't  _ that _ evil after all. It felt counter intuitive to even think the male that had killed one of his own and used his head as a message, the same who had made Tamlin beg and hold her mind in a silent threat could be anything but despicable. And yet, she was laying in her improvised hay bed thinking over the contradictions Rhysand had glimpsed in her direction. How he sometimes came here not entirely to tease her when Tamlin wasn't even here to begin with, and she had to admit to herself that those little silver tongued fights gave her enough courage to face another day Under the Mountain. 

She let out a long breath when Nuala and Cerridwen emerged from the shadows of her cell. Silently, Feyre rose from her ground and followed them into the depths of the mountain until they reached the bathing room she now used for preparing every night. She let them paint the tattoos all over her body and barely cover her with pieces of white fabric that fell over her breast and thighs and sighted at the result. There was a knock on the door and a second latter Rhysand was leaning against it´s frame and gave her a slight nod.

- A delight as always.

- I´m glad to see you being a prick hasn't changed either.

He chuckled and offered her his arm as they strode down the halls. She couldn't help the beat her heart skipped as she touched him and frowned at herself.  _ You traitor, it´s Tamlin´s enemy your sighting about.  _ For a second she thought she felt Rhysand tensed under her touch, but when she lifted her gaze to his face it was cold as stone. They reached the throne´s room doors and she couldn't help to take a deep breath and square her shoulders. Almost imperceptibly she felt Rhysands fingers give her a gentle squeeze before they separated each other a couple of feets and crossed the room towards Amarantha.

At first, she didn't notice anything different from the rest of the nights Rhysand made her drink and dance to his amusement, but it took her only a couple steps to acknowledge the anxious atmosphere in the room. Every one of the attendants were tense as bowstrings, ready to jump at the slightest unjustified movement. And Amarantha, she always had that mocking smile on her face, a cruel thing plastered on her like it was the only emotion she could be capable of, but now even that felt short as Feyre watched her almost beaming with anticipation and terror filled every bone in her body.

_ Don´t. Do not give her the satisfaction, I´m right next to you. _

__

Rhysand´s voice filled her head, and she wanted to tell him there was nothing comfortable in having him by her side, that he was equally capable of hurting her and being Amarantha´s blind tool. But it was a lie and as she looked at Tamlin sitting right next to her unwilling to move or even breath in her direction, she selfishly wished he would dare risk anything to give her even the slightest comfort Rhysand had given her these past months. And while Amarantha´s mouth opened to hold another task against them she realized it was the first time she thought it: unwilling, not unable. Her heart shook and mimicking the gesture with her head she focused her attention on the predator in front of her. 

- So, I see you two have grown accustomed to each other.

- She is a rather entertaining pet, I´ll give you that. - He said with a shrug and Amarantha´s lips curled.

- Are you enjoying yourself, Feyre?

The room had their full attention, waiting for them to finish and carry on with their drinks until oblivion could take them.

- It's fine. – Was all she could spill out, not knowing what the queen would make of any answer she might give her.

- Some would say though it's been more than revenge what unites you two. – And as the words came out of her she could see Rhysand freeze in his place. Feyre cocked her head before she could command her body to hide any curiosity from the blood thirst eyes of Hybern´s general and watched her eyes narrow over her.

- But something tells me you can´t recognize love even if it slaps you in the face, my dear. Was your human family able to break you so thoroughly? I'm kind of impressed, I must admit. But oh, even in my dreams I could´ve never planned more of an epic novel finale. – She smiled wickedly and Feyre wasn't sure Rhysand was breathing anymore when the queen looked at Tamlin and then scanned the two of them at the center of the room. – Who would have said, Tamlin dear, that your beloved human who crawled her way into the mountain to save you, would end up being the mate of your long life enemy?

**** 

He knew she was looking at him, pondering every reaction, every breath he drew to attack again. The options were quickly forming in his mind: run, fight, laugh, ignore her. None of them worked, Amarantha had them cornered and Rhysand didn't think even she knew he was still suspecting Feyre could be his mate, and she had just confirmed it with the force of a knife going through his heart. So, he turned his head to Feyre and watched her widen eyes going from side to side, trying to make sense from this mess.

He wanted to reach her, to tell her it was fine, even though nothing was. But he didn't have the words and the sound of the female in the throne turned his attention towards her, putting his body ever so slightly in front of the mate at her side. Tamlin remained still, he notice, he didn't believe her, thought of it of another one of her games.

- Don´t be all so serious, it's a time for celebration, isn´t it my dear? You are finally free of this leech. – Her hand went to Tamlin´s thigh in a possessive gesture and he felt Feyre go utterly still behind him. -You don´t believe me?

The general cocked her head and pouted.

- I thought you might need some sort of proof.- Her face went back to that twisted smile. – Bring it in.

***

Her head was still spinning when the doors opened, and she saw the guards marching in with a large box carried in their shoulders. His mate, could it be possible? It wasn´t, she decided in less than a breath, this was just another of Amarantha´s sick games to wear her down, to take all hope away from her, even her love for Tamlin. Still, she couldn't bring herself to look into Rhysand´s eyes. 

The guards stopped just a few steps from them and lowered their load. Her eyes widened with horror, and she saw that what she thought was a box, was indeed a black metal coffin. She understood it´s meaning almost immediately. It was too small for any of the Fae warriors that were amongst them, barely wide enough for a human girl who could not fight her way out. She was talking before she realized what she was saying.

- We have a bargain. - Her voice didn't crack, but there was a hint of agitation in it that she cursed and the female rejoiced in. – You can't kill me if it's not by one of your trials or if should I fail to solve the riddle.

- Oh, I know that, who said anything about killing you… at least for now. You will continue to face the tests and prove your love to someone who doesn't belong to you anyway, but in the meanwhile, you´ve been assigned to a new cell, enjoy. Put her in. – She commanded almost with boredom, but the satisfaction in her voice remained. 

The guards moved and Feyre took back a step at the same time Rhysand took one forward. Their eyes met and for the first time she saw fear in them, and it was that which sent her trembling and holding her breath. He noticed and his face went back to a mask of boredom and reassurance.

_ We´ll make her doubt, darling. Hold on, I´m here, I´m not going anywhere. _

__

And for the first time she deigned to answer back.

_ Please. _

_ It's alright, I´m here, I´ll never leave you Feyre. _

__

The guards came close enough to hold her arms and as Rhysand kept sending soothing words towards her with a face governed by disinterest she looked back at Tamlin. His hands were grasping the throne arms so hard his knuckles were white and his breath was ragged, but he didn't meet her gaze and she could hear her heart break into a million pieces, so hard, she asked herself if the silent guests in the room had heard too. Chains and manacles came into her vision and something snapped inside her as she tried pushing and trashing against the Fae that were holding her. She tried to bite and kick, but it was useless and her eyes filled with tears as the males put the manacles on her without effort and when she thought she was finally going to be driven into the coffin, the touch of cold metal hit her face and a mask was strapped against her before she could draw a breath.

_ I´m here, I´m with you. I´ll get you out Feyre. I´m not going anywhere. _

__

Pain filled the voice in her mind and even though the panic had taken total control over her mind and body, hearing him through it all allowed her to bite down her screams and walk towards the black coffin. Somehow, she trusted him, and as she lay on the ground and the lid was sealed over her, she knew she would not be alone and would emerge to take revenge on Amarantha. As light fade out locking her in, she heard the General say

- A box of darkness for the Lord of the Nightcourt´s mate. Make yourself feel at home, Feyre.


	2. Towards The Void We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amarantha´s torture for Feyre and Rhysand during their time Under the Mountain. Will they be able to come out of it without loosing themselves in the process?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I´m still not sure if I wanted this to be more or less explicit, I´d hate this to be triggering so please know this chapter has explicit violence and abuse being described.   
> As always, your comments are welcomed.
> 
> All the characters belong to Sarah. J Maas.

Amarantha smiled satisfied as she leaned against her throne next to a shivering Tamlin. He wanted to rip both of their throats, to tear the whole mountain apart for making her part of Hybern´s twisted revenge and it killed him that the only way he had of protecting her was faking his disinterest. Because if they knew… as much as Tamlin might claimed he loved Feyre, judging by his lack of actions towards helping her in any way, to fight for her as hard as she was fighting for him, he didn't trust what the unstable male might do if he realized he would never be able to have her as he wanted to. He commanded himself not to turn and examine the body of Claire Beddor, still broken and hanging from the rooms wall like a display of wickedness for all of them to remember.

So he forced his body to relax and put his hands into his pockets while the guards surrounded the coffin and carried a silent Feyre out of the throne room. The guests had gone utterly quiet, disbelief crossing every one of their faces either because of the punishment that had been thrown over the woman he loved without warning, or because of Rhysands complete triviality over the matter if her mate had been truly locked away in the dark. Let them believe, he didn't care, let the mask take on another layer of cruelty, anything to prevent Amarantha killing her out of spite once the trials were over.

- I would´ve tone down the dramatics a little, but it was quite impressive -He said.

- So you want to keep playing I see.

He shrugged.

- I have nothing to play, but if theater pleases you I´ll do my part. – There was always a character for him to incarnate, he had been one for so long he'd almost forgotten who he really was. Only Feyre´s dreams and memories were able to pull him out of the villain he'd become once his Inner Circle had fallen into a blur that could no longer hold him to the male he was.

- Always such an eager server. – She said with malice and a round of laughs and huffs under the breaths of the Fae and Amarantha´s creatures circled the room. He forced himself to give her a knowing smile and slightly bowed before she nodded with narrowed eyes and he walked towards one of the side walls.

Tamlin remained sited and quiet, no surprise there at least. He knew Amarantha´s attention was fully on him so he didn't dare communicate with Feyre when he had no doubt the queen was scanning every bit of magic that flew out of him. So he served himself a glass of wine and with the arrogance only night could summon he took a sit next to one of the Fae dancing sensuously and ran a lazy hand over her body. He could feel the disgust in the other courts faces, he almost didn't care.

***

She stayed quiet as she felt the coffin moving for a long while between the halls and stairs of the mountain. She knew this because every time the guards took one of them, the box would lightly incline, and her feet would touch the bottom. She counted a total of six stairs, always down, before the males carrying her came to a stop. Her old cell was only three sets of stairs down the throne room.

It was colder than the previous room too, the holes on the coffin let the air come in for her to breathe, but also to make her skin ache at the contact of the freezing stream. Her scraps of fabric did little to help on the matter. Fear hadn't ripped through her yet, the spell of Rhysands words still somehow soothing her, until the guards almost threw the coffin in the room forcing her to raise her hands against the walls to keep her steady _ ,  _ and the door closed behind her. The minutes passed and her heart started to race with every second of her counting mind. She had given herself completely to Amarantha, toes and hands gripped firmly and her breath cached by the metal of the mask.

Rhysand.  _ No, not yet.  _ She wouldn't call him, wouldn't yield without a fight. So she pushed herself to remain calmed, at least for now.

Her mate. Shouldn't she have felt something if that was the case, anything?  _ Oh, but you did.  _ Said a mocking voice in her mind and she shut her down before it could continue. Tamlin, she had to get Tamlin out, and Lucien, she had to keep her mind intact until the third trial and then she could allow herself to break down completely. He couldn't have believed her, right? Feyre had gone into the lion's mouth itself to fight for him, to live next to him the bunch of years she could offer with her mortal life span. And she would give him everything she already had. When the time came, she knew Tamlin would fight for her too.

She didn't know how much time she spent thinking about it, trying to convince herself that whenever he had the opportunity he would come for her. At some point her eyes started to become heavy because of the agitation of the day and the lack of food and movement that had her panting even on a regular day, and she fell asleep between the walls of her small cell.

***

_ Feyre. _

He asked once the night far away from him stretched to dawn. There was no response and he held a sight while running a hand through his hair. It was better she was asleep, he supposed, let her rest before Amarantha´s full attention came back to the toy she had made for herself. The fact that she had given Feyre this time on her own was nothing but a way to make him as most anxious as possible and push her under a spiral of madness wondering which of the terrible ways of torture she would pick first. It was starting to take its effects on him as he strode through his room trying to sort a way out. He had done nothing but pace in silence, every step more loaded with desperation when there was a knock on the door.

The Attor appeared before him not waiting for an invitation and a hoarse laugh came out of him as he curled over himself and said with glimmer in his eyes

- Her Majesty has requested you in her chambers. Immediately. – Rhysand felt his throat close in answer but he managed a nod and obliged swagger into his walk.

He walked through halls and stairs until he reached her chamber and stopped before the door forcing himself to get into character. He knew Tamlin slept in the room next to her: to have an eye on him, to make him listen to them every time Amarantha requested his services and smell his cringe or to approach him whenever she felt like it, Rhysand didn't know. Probably all of them. He opened the door and watched her already lounged over the bed.

Her entire room was decorated in shades of red, most of them reminding him of buckets of blood flowing down the bed posters and the canopy while she enjoyed his body. He pushed the thought aside and walked towards her like she was now nothing but a prey and returned a dangerous smile. The queen rose to her elbows and met him halfway, he took a breath of her and his hands went to her hips, praying to give himself strength not to go up to her neck and break it. But she was even older than him, she would be expecting that, they both knew as her hand slid to his tunic and pushed him against her mouth.

He didn't recoil, though every nerve on his body was screaming in ache, her touch burning wherever his skin was met and for a brief second he thought how every part of him that had known her would never be able to be touched again without her knowing smile coming back to him. She tasted like coals, and under them there was the acid presence of vinegar. Still he leaned over her until both of them were laying on the bed and deepened the kiss, he would have to give a convincing performance.

Amarantha wouldn't let him be on top of her for more than a bunch of seconds, so he started his journey down, down, ignoring the twist of pain that always claimed his body when he served, the only thing he could feel until hours later locked in his room. He undressed her in the process and felt the light touch of her hand in his hair. He looked up with a smirk and winked at her.

- I almost feel bad for the rest of the females that have not had a piece of you in my court. Everyone deserved to be appeased by the High Lord of the Night court. -He kept control of his face. It wouldn't be past Amarantha to make him please every person in this goddamn place.

- I guess it's one of the privileges of being Queen.

She gave him a smart smile in return and pushed her hand against his scalp to get him back to business. When he'd taken all of her clothes off he stopped between her legs he put his tongue to work and shut down every moan Amarantha made either because of the physical pleasure he provided or the one she got on watching him shiver ever so slightly with self hatred. He kept going, pushing everything he was out of his mind, because if he remembered his family, his friends, the mate depending on him, he´d shatter forever. When she found her climax, Rhys took advantage of the few seconds the female closed her eyes and let himself feel vulnerable and shake off the dirty feeling of being her whore.

_ Collect yourself _ . The female recovered and as he´d expected rolled over to sit on top of him.

- It seems to me you are overdressed. – And with a snap of her fingers his clothes vanished and Amarantha´s eyes sparked with anticipation. He returned it with a feline smile, knowing this was the point where she'd take his body for hours, taunting him with expert eyes, examining what would exactly take to break him.

He stretched his arms behind his head and relaxed his sculpted body under her, telling her he'd take whatever she´d throw at him. Amarantha cracked a smile and began with the session. Candles and leather handcuffs appeared with another snap of her fingers and he gave him of her wrists with feigned confidence.

She tied him up with more force she'd ever used before and he fought the bile coming up his throat. She´d demand everything of him this time, he didn't have to go into her mind to know that, it was well written all over her face.

She rode him over and over, giving him only a few minutes to catch his breath and put himself together before she was all over him again. The candles were litten and he endured the drops of wax on his skin at first, then the slow burn of the fire while she winked at him. He remembered a time when he enjoyed this. He highly that would ever be the case anymore. When she finished, once and for all, his skin ached with the reminder of burns, scratches and fierce bite marks. Still he waited for her to take the handcuffs off and remained laid on the mattress as Amarantha rose and looked at herself in the mirror in front of her.

- Do you think your pet would enjoy similar punishment, Rhysand dear?

He didn't tense. Feyre´s survival depended on how he played this. Amarantha´s naked back almost mocked him, knowing he was pondering his options.

- Maybe she is already expecting the lashing. – He shrugged.

- So what would you recommend?

He stopped dead for a second.  _ Control your breathing, keep her entertained.  _ The thing about mates was that the instinct commanding every move would demand of you to gladly hurt yourself before hurting your couple. So as every bone and muscle in his body screamed at the thought it could be him the one who orientated Feyre´s suffering, it would be enough to give her at least a reasonable doubt about who she was to him, what she meant. Then, Mother saved him, they’d just have to win the third trial.

- I think the girl Beddor was a good example of justice being served.

As he though, Amarantha froze in place for a second. The human who was tortured just mere months before had faced a brutal destiny, to even imply making Feyre go through something similar would mean she wasn´t his mate, as wicked and twisted as they all thought of him to be, it wouldn't be possible. The Queen recovered quickly. 

- I´ve always liked your ways Rhysand.

His entire body wanted to hurt itself. He'd have to let Feyre face it the first time, and though he´d be there to walk by her side the whole time, it wouldn't be enough. He didn't dare use his magic on her at first when he knew the General would be watching like a hawk, feeling every movement that might confirm her claim, but then, after that first inspection, he´d make sure there was nothing Feyre would registered and he´d hate himself every day until he found his end.

Amarantha kicked him out of her room and he could barely make out the images before him as he reached for his bedroom, locked the door and curled over himself bitting over a sob. 

*** 

Feyre awoke in the dark with anguish feeling every pore of her body, like even screaming and howling at the top of her lungs wouldn't be enough to take the sorrow away, and she contained the need of throwing herself against one of the coffin walls just to shush the feeling away. Tears rolled down her face as she remind herself to breath, at first she thought it was because of the disorientation she´d found herself when awoke in complete darkness, but as time passed and she was able to keep a tight leash on it, Feyre notices it was not her mind losing control, but as if someone from the outside had thrown a blanket of despair over her without warning.

She kept breathing as she contemplated how possible would be Amarantha was torturing her even from the distance, manipulating her thoughts and feelings so that not only physical pain would be inflicted on her, but something much more complex. The last scraps of unexpected grief were still washing away from her when she heard the door flung open and a set of steps sounded towards her. Genuine fear now crossed her body and she foolishly tried to recoil in the little space available inside the box. The furious sound of metal on metal reached her ears before the lid was moved and the Attor´s face came into vision.

Feyre almost hissed as he made a quick movement of his head and two other guards appeared, reached and almost tore her from the coffin. They laid her on a cold stone table next to her claustrophobic cage, which she almost missed and she tried not to shiver in front of the faerie while they tied her hands and toes to the edges of the surface.

- You and I are going to be having a lot of fun. I mean, it´ll be up to you how much you can handle my delights before your mind is too far gone, but you don’t have to worry about that since I´ll do my best to ensure you´ll enjoy every step of the journey. -He said as he walked around the table examining every inch of her body. Feyre didn’t answer.

The Attor giggled, the sound of nails running against a chalkboard, and he turned his back on her as he leaned over a black little table that she figured had been brought for the occasion. As he opened it she could already figure out what kind of tools the monster would feel the need to bring, but when he moved so she could watch, the impact of hammers, tweezers and saws almost made her vomit.

- Nothing to say?

Feyre swallowed and it was like trying to pass cotton balls down her throat. The faerie held a hammer the size of her arm and her heart started to race as a cold sweat covered her body.

_ Darling. _

__

Rhys' voice reached her mind and she almost cried in relief since though pain was a sure thing to come, at least she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

_ Focus on my voice Feyre. _

She struggled to take a breath. The Attor ran a taunting finger along her legs and she closed her eyes while he decided where the force of his rage would fall and tear her apart. The answer: her heels. A scream so loud came out of her she thought maybe, Tamlin would hear in the depths of the mountain and the beast that had saved her over and over would be commanded by instinct and rescue her once more. But of course, he wouldn't be able to do that with Amarantha holding his power and now she had to face the fact there was no one to save her but her own. As the pain flowed through her and became a constant but steady reminder, her senses came back to her to encounter Rhysands voice, still there, still showing up to hold the foundations of her trembling mental state. 

_ You know, every year-  _ he started with a soft velvet voice _ \- the day of winter Solstice, my brothers and I have this tradition where we make a snowball fight. Sometimes it lasted so long we were just hoping anyone would just win so we could go inside and get drunk, but the thing is, Illyrian males can be very competitive stubborn people. _

__

Feyre felt the Attor holding her other leg and her muscles tensed in response as a single tear run down her temple. So she focused on the voice, having a hard time trying to imagine the mighty High Lord making snowballs in the open.

_ There was one year where Cassian was so settled on winning, he bet the rest of us that whoever lost had to run naked around the mountain. _

__

She wanted to snort, picturing the ridiculous scene, when she heard the hammer cutting through the air and shattering her left foot. Her screams met the Attor´s laugh and her nails tried to dug into the stone table, scratching desperately until she felt something sticky meeting her fingers. She breathed through her mouth now, the mask making the task so much difficult, and she held onto the piece of himself Rhysand was offering to distract her from her body. 

_ Did he won? _

Feyre fought to put the words together and Rhysands voice continued, sounding strangled now, and something like restraint hit her body.

_ Well, you see, as much as he wanted the incentive to work, Azriel and I found a common goal that year that provided a good sense of teamwork. Cassian’s feet were blue for a worryingly amount of time. _

In and out, one breath at a time. She clung to the voice knowing her entire sanity depended on him.

- It's not so bad of a start is it? Of course, I´m under the vague impression humans don't really have any healing abilities that count, being the sorry excuse of creatures you are. But you don't have to worry about that either, we´ll take excellent care of you.

Fayre took another deep breath as the faerie turned back to the supplies table and left the hammer discarded to turn his attention on the rest of the tools.

_ I'd pay good money to see my sisters in a snow fight. _

__

Thinking of them sent a new wave of pain through her, this time though, from a very different sort. What did they think had become of her? Nesta knew her traveling to Prythian might very well mean her death, would she cry over her memory if she ever knew what had happened? Would they even know if she failed to accomplish her task?

_ You are not going to die, Feyre. _

__

She had forgotten he could see everything that was going inside her head, not just the small coherent sentences she struggled to put together. She was about to reply when the Attors attention went back to her, the sharp edge of a knife gleaming in the darkness. Her vision started to blur from sheer panic.

_ Morrigan on the other hand _

He continued sensing her distress.

_ I think you´d like her, she has a stable relationship with good wine and finds her life’s fulfilling mission to win petty fights with Cassian. _

__

Feyre felt the kiss of the knife over her ribs and held her breath as it slid down her side. Blood ran through her body and pooled on the table. She breathed in the pain and focused on the male.

__

_ Your court sounds more like a childcare than the recollection of monsters everyone seems to shiver about. Who would say your arrogant ass wasn't even justified? _

For a fraction of a second she was naïve enough to think the pain wasn't that bad, she could handle it. Until the creature started digging into her ribcage. It was so unexpected, she didn't have enough air to scream as she fought with the chains that restrained her. Some part of her mind that wasn´t lost in the pain kept track of how the faerie was actually trying to take away the muscle between her ribs, as to expose a ripped canvas like a work of fine art.

She kept screaming while the Attors smile grew and the blood flowed until it reached the edge on the table and fell freely to the ground. When black spots filled her vision, the image of her blood was the last thing she remembered, and a dangerous voice registered on the background.

_ I love my people and my family. Do not think I wouldn't become a monster to keep them protected. _

__

And as the words filled her mind once last time, she now gladly reached towards the darkness and hoped it let her claim her as long as it could.


	3. To hold you until I break

Chapter 3

Torture. It had been utter torture to hear her cry and scream as they tore her apart, to soothe her with memories so ridiculous it could ensure she would be able to detach herself, even for a brief moment, from the pain that roamed her body. And he deserved every second of it for he was the cause of every one of her tears. Rhysand could feel the mating bond twisting and trashing against the brutal weight of the hammer, how it went taunt by the end of it.

He was seated on the floor, covered in sweat, waiting for her to wake up. Though he wanted nothing more for her than to continue unconscious, unaware of how the world was going to hell. Suddenly the remaining of his power detected movement on the threshold of Feyre´s chamber and his body went rigid. He swept the room looking for the Attor or the indolent guards, only to find two Fae women peeking inside the room. Healers, Rhysand realized, coming to cure Feyre´s injuries to ensure another torture session, so her mortal body could endure the most creative ways to experience agony for as long as possible. He felt sick to his stomach.

The women moved quietly towards the table, where the Attor had discarded his mate like it was no more than a dying mouse. He clenched his hands at the memory and breathed through his mouth. The healers moved slowly, gently even as they examined the damage and frowned upon her body. How strange it was to have their presence registered in this place, he wondered how it must feel for these creatures of mending and softness to be locked and used for such purposes, what it must make them feel.

He was still hovering over the scene when a knock on the door made him jump. He had been so concentrated over what was happening a few levels below that he hadn´t paid any attention to his surroundings. His stomach roiled, if he had to service Amarantha again, this soon, he'd gone insane. But a sniff over the door´s direction made him raise his brows in surprise, what was  _ he _ doing here. Rhysand growled and with exhaustion covering his every movement raised to his feet, not even an apiece of patience left in him to face whatever this was about.

- What are you doing here? – He said opening the door almost with violence.

An unimpressed Lucien returned his snarl with narrowed eyes. 

- Looking after a friend, as much as I would like to do that far away from you.

- Shouldn´t the partner of the year be doing that?

Now it was Lucien´s time to growl a warning. Always so protective of Tamlin, such a waste, even for the fox.

- Stay away from Feyre.

Rhysand let out a sarcastic laugh, though he was holding a bitter one.

- As far as I recall, your friend is locked inside a box and let rot for what Amarantha cares, so that won 't be a problem. – Lucien´s face went red with range but he´s eyes focused on him while barely widen enough for him to catch it. Rhysand was about to kick him out, deeming it as a product of his tiredness, when he felt Lucien´s mind open to him, almost beating him from the force of his thoughts.

- Tamlin will kill you next time you lay a hand on her. – He continued aloud, but he saw the excuse under it, the dialogue designed for Amarantha´s spies. Curiously, Rhysand moved to the limits of his mind.

_ I know why you've been doing it; the drinks, the dances. She is right, Amarantha´s right isn't she? _

- Excuse me if I recall how your so-called High Lord has proved himself rather useless in that department.

Their eyes locked, and while any intrude would have seen the fire of a heated argument, both of them knew Rhysand was pondering every possible decision before him. Lucien spoke again.

__ _ Protect her, there's no one left to do so. Use me. _

- You'd wish to be even half the High Lord he is. – And with an insisting look, Lucien gave him his back and strode down the hall, as silent as he had come.

* * *

Feyre opened her eyes only to be encountered with the greeting of darkness. In fact, she opened and closed them several times to confirm she had indeed opened them in the first place. She didn´t dare a sight as she remembered the events that led her to unconsciousness, the overwhelming pain that had taken over her and left only scraps of her by the end. Carefully, Feyre raised her hands and moved them over her body, starting from her face, down her neck, her chest and stopped before she had gathered enough courage to continue down her ribs. The feeling froze her, and with her heart racing she repeated the movement over and over until she was frowning at herself. There was no feeling of a scar, no traces of dried blood or the aching on the knife's path. Had she imagined it? Did Amarantha trick her mind into feeling the pain, smelling her own blood?

Uncertain, she overcame the coat of fear and slightly wiggled her toes, where a wave of pain should've taken over her, there was nothing but the sound of chains. She drew out a breath, not sure of how she should feel but before she could relax and stress over the weight of the walls that contained her, she heard the door of the chamber slammed open. Every muscle of her body tensed at the confusing memory rolling in her mind, and once she could make out the distinctive sound of the Attor´s talons on the ground her body started trembling despite herself.

Before she could decide whether this was a product of the Queen´s power or an actual threat, the lid was pulled, and the contorted face of the creature appeared to her. Hands were moving towards her and this time she kicked and fought before they could easily get a hold on her. This time, they laid her onto her stomach where she could not twist towards the black table she knew was at her right so there was no other option than to quiet herself, listening to every movement the Attor made, trying to get a glimpse of what awaited her.

_ Feyre. _

She took a deep breath at the sound of his voice. Was she imagining this too? She didn't really care as long as the voice would keep her company, in this life or in the one Amarantha could be crafting. Somehow, she felt Rhysand doubt before it said.

_ I´m real, Feyre. I´ll take the pain away, I´ll make it all go away. _

__ She thought about how he'd talked to her last time, how it had made it more bearable even if it was only because of his presence. She heard the Attor hum while going through metal tools that sounded raised and discarded over the table.

_ I´ll keep you company too Feyre, but I´ll take the pain away. You will have to scream when it's time, make it credible though. _

__ Feyre took a second to process what he was saying.

_ I can't look. He laid me on my stomach. _

__ Silence. And though Rhysand hadn't been more than a mocking, arrogant presence in her short stay in Prythian, she somehow knew him well enough to know he was swearing.

- Still quiet, huh? – The Attor began. – I wonder if some quality time with your tongue would change that, maybe it just needs the right kind of attention. – An amused laugh followed. She remained quiet.

_ I'll have to let you feel something, so you can know when to act… I´m sorry, Feyre. _

__ He sounded defeated. His voice hollowed and desperate at the same time, and she couldn't bear it. She needed the hope of his arrogance, to fool herself into believing he somehow had managed to survive this mountain and keep his spirit alive. She needed to see him fight, even if it was with herself. Because if she felt him break, she knew it would be her doom.

Her body started to numb at her fingertips and in a couple of seconds it had traveled all the way through her body until she was barely able to feel the cold bite of the stone beneath her. The Attor seemed to have found a pleasing choice when he turned to her and she twisted enough to see the wicked smile on his face, she couldn't bring herself to lower her gaze and identify the instrument he´d selected. She turned her head back to the table, resting her brow against it and took a deep breath.

_ Focus on me Feyre, you told me you had sisters, how many?  _ He began.

__ _ Two.  _ She stopped herself, doubting if sharing her names with him. There was no chance she could give any of them a trace of where they were. But she could share a memory at least, a draft of her life previous to this disaster. Feyre felt the Attor rest something on her back, it was small and pointy, similar to the feel of a screwdriver. It made her shiver. Still, when she felt the Attor digging in her skin, the pain was barely like the bite of a splinter.

_ Scream. _ A command.

__ So she did, raising her voice to a hoarse howl every time the object was used against her and even managed some tears to roll down her face, but the feel was so small she had to concentrate to notice when the thing at his side was starting and pausing her torture.

_ I don't get along with any of them really.  _ She muffled between one cut and the other, something warm was running down her back.  _ I´m the youngest and the most impulsive, I guess that's how I ended up here anyway. They are… composed, I think you can call it that, so we never had a lot in common. _

__ _ You are not composed, yet you were living in the Spring Court? I´d paid to see that. _

__ _ Why do you hate him so much?  _ It was out before she could stop herself. 

__ Silence again. This time she could imagine his face, stone cold, any attempt of humor thrown down the window.

The Attor had his attention back at the table and this time, though she couldn't feel the pain, she registered the fright spasm her muscles had given into all over her back and legs.

- A lot of people think this sort of session should be as long as possible. Endless, unforgiving pain. I like the foreplay, tiny drops of pain here and there, just to give you a sense of what is coming, make you used to it, prepared. Consider it a gift.

She very much doubted this could be considered tiny drops of pain and knew behind the Attors twisted explanation he was laying the actual reason to her. To make her as frightened as possible, dread filling each of her pores every time she heard the door opening, making her recoil inside the metal box. To break her spiritually before they finished breaking her body. This time she hissed in response and the Attor was there in two short steps. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled back until she could see his face and smell his rotten breath.

- Until next time. – He said before he slammed her head so hard against the table, she´d passed out before she could feel the first wave of pain.

When Feyre woke up her head was pounding so bad she had to close her eyes again to prevent from throwing up. She tried to steady herself with her hands and didn't move too much before she touched something at her sides. The walls, she was once again in the coffin. Feyre swallowed and tried to push against the lid when a rush of pain claimed her back with such intensity she stopped breathing until it passed.

It hurted. The thought unbalanced her, it was true, then? Amarantha had made up the first session maybe to enjoy twice the shiver going through her body when the Attor had appeared? But Rhysand, he had been there both times trying to distract her from the pain, he said he would keep her company  _ again  _ this last time. Her head was spinning, she probably had a concussion and somewhere in her mind she remembered hearing she shouldn't fall asleep, so she forced herself to fight the heaviness in her eyelids.

* * *

The next couple of days Rhysand had barely had time to breathe before Amarantha was all over him again. He knew the Attor hadn´t gone back to his routine because of the mating bond, quiet but present, still he couldn't reach her through his powers with Amarantha breathing on his neck. Literally.

So after days locked in her chambers Rhysand did the next best thing he could to keep her mind from shattering; offer her a friend to rely on when he couldn´t. He waited until Amarantha was completely lost in her own pleasure to reach the mind of the fox.

_ She is six levels under the throne room, take the stairs to the left and when you are down there turn right. It's the only door in the hall. Amarantha won't be paying attention, go now. _

__ A whole minute passed before he got his mind opened and Lucien answered with a short thought.

_ Is there something you want me to tell her? _

__ Was there? He could feel the tension that took over her mind when she thought about him. How she was trying to sort the contradictions and still, she didn't know what to make of him. He didn't deserve her forgiveness anyway, he´d traded that a long time ago.

_ Just take care of her. _

* * *

__ Lucien moved along the shadows of the mountain, his hair the only give out of who was roaming through lost halls. He advanced quietly until he could make out the door between the torches, the fox pushed himself against the corner so the guards couldn't see him. He had been taking note these past few days of the shifts and rotations they took on the lower grounds, always wondering with a bored face near a lonely stair.

He stood there for ten minutes before he heard the grumbles of the faeries moving towards him. Lucien pressed himself harder and prayed to the Mother for them not to notice his scent. They didn´t. They had just disappeared taking the sharp turn of the stairs and Lucien was already moving swiftly, crossing the hall and entering the chamber. He saw the sarcophagus at a side of the room and the scent of fear filled his nostrils as he walked quietly towards Feyre. It took him a moment to find the courage to open the lid but they didn't have long and with a push her friend was exposed.

All words were taken away from him the moment he saw her, Feyre's face was covered in dry blood, soaking her eyes, the bridge of her nose and her cheeks while an ugly bruise had blossomed along her brow.

- Hey, it's me. – He said as soft as he could when he saw her recoil in the box´s wall like a cornered spider. – It´s Lucien.

- Lucien?

- We don't have long, I brought you some food. – He was glad he did because the moment he said it hunger took over her face, when was the last time they had fed her? He took the bread and cheese he´d manage to steal from dinner as for a little flask with water. Feyre started eating before he could get a chance to say another word.

- How long have I been here? – She said when finished drinking.

- A week since Amarantha made her grand reveal.

- Is he… does he believe her?

- Do you?

- Of course I don't.

He expected that, and though Tamlin was his friend and he was his most loyal server, he wished she would turn her back on him. He didn't have the heart to tell her about his silence this past week. So he changed the subject.

- Are you alright? We don't have much time, the guards will be here any minute.

- I´m… - For a second her eyes filled with silver as she examined the box, she was afraid. – my head hurts.

- Let me see. – He put his hands on her forehead and frowned, he had little power, but he could take away her headache at the very least. – Does it feel any better?

Feyre nodded.

- I have to go. – And like that her breaths started to become superficial, every time quicker and agitated. – Hey, hey, I´ll come back. As soon as I can, we´re working on it.

Hope reached her eyes and he knew she was just about to ask about him when his ears caught the movement on the stair.

- The guards are arriving. I have to go, I´m sorry. I´ll be back. – With that he gently pushed her onto her back and gave her a look filled with sorrow.

The lid was back in place in an instant and he barely managed to reach the stairs at the other side of the halls before the guards took their positions.

* * *

She was losing her mind. Feyre didn´t know how much time had passed between the Attors last visit and Lucien´s, or how much had passed since that either. At first, she lost herself between sleeps that became nightmares, so she shifted to drawing paintings with the darkness as a canvas and her fingers as pens and brushes. At first she painted the flowers and hills of the Spring Court, at some point she even traced Tamlin´s mask, but as time passed she found herself trying to recreate that place between the mountains where the music had taken her, the sky full of purples and deep blues.

She didn't know how much time passed before she had the first panic attack either. How the canvas had turned into a pulsing oppression against her skin that fell on top of her until she could see it swallowing her and she couldn't breathe. She was panting so fast her ribs hurt and suddenly her face started to tingle until she couldn't feel it, just like Rhysand had made her pain numb so could have a chance.

_ I have to get out, I have to get out, I have to get out _ . It was like she'd lost all control over her mind, a lonely thought taking over and smashing against the walls of herself, like a ball being thrown too fast, too strong against it, threatening to break it. There was no air, she had to breathe. Feyre dug her nails on her skin so hard even in the dark she could tell she´d draw blood and the irony wasn´t lost on her when pain was the only thing that seemed to ground her to reality.

_ Breath.  _ A command.

_ Rhysand.  _ Even in her head, her voice sounded strangled.

_ Breath, Feyre. _

Her eyes filled with tears, but she clung to him, with teeth and nails she held onto the male she abhorred until every breath became easier.

_ How do you do it?  _ She asked when some calm had found its way into her.  _ How do you bear the darkness of this place? _

He took a second to find an answer.

__ _ There are different kinds of darkness. There is the darkness that frightens, the darkness that soothes, the darkness that is restful.  _ She pictured each.  _ There is the darkness of lovers, and the darkness of assassins. It becomes what the bearer wishes it to be, needs it to be. It is not wholly good or bad. _

__ She thought about it for a moment.

_ I don’t know how to turn this into something I can live with. _

__ _ There are some kinds of darkness, Feyre, we just survive. This is one of them, and you will survive it, I´ll be here every step of the way to make sure you do. _

__ _ Have you survived yours? _

__ His spirit, had his spirit survived all this cruelness, all this time? She needed to know. Rhysand stood quiet for a couple of seconds.

_ For a long time I thought it had won, but I guess there are still things worth fighting for. _

__ It was her turn to think quietly.

_ I guess there are. _

__ They kept silent for a long time, Feyre now looking into the darkness as it was a stranger on a cell block, not quite sure how to take it anymore.

_ Rhysand? _

__ _ Yes, darling? _

__ _ Thank you _

* * *

__ He laid in his bed, something warming in his chest. Rhysand wasn´t so naïve to think this would make her any closer to him than before, but he needed the comfort of her words just for a second. Just to remember himself how it was to feel something else than that need of survival.

The feeling burst like a bubble when a woman covered in red appeared in his room with no sound but the click of her tongue. Rhysand sat with surprise written all over his face before he could recover.

- Gathering up some strength my dear? I assume you must be exhausted; I may have demanded a good deal after all. – She giggled with malice and examined her nails.

- What a surprise to have you here, if you wanted me once more you know you should only call.

- I know, but that is not why I'm here. – She paused, knowing she had his full attention. – Since you´ve been so… cooperative in finding ways to displease our human guest, I thought maybe I could use you once more on a little task.

He gathered all his self control not to vomit right there.

- Is that it? What do you have in mind?

- Well I don’t think it’s a secret dear Feyre is waiting for her brave knight to make an appearance, as it isn´t also that she hates you to death. – the blow hit him harder that it should. – So why not humiliate her just a little bit more, expose her, you know. I´m sorry Rhysand honey, but I guess you´ll have a new chamber for the rest of the month and I don't think it is as pretty as this one.

Rhys' mind stopped for a second. This was not a punishment intended for Feyre but for himself, to watch her suffer until the third trial was over and see if he could endure it or reveal what she desperately needed to know. He wouldn't yield, not now, not ever. So he make himself put on a wicked smile and answered with his heart breaking in his chest

- Your wish is my command.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, any thoughts on Rhys? It feels almost bad to make them go through hell but they´re both tough enough, that´s why we love them <3 
> 
> As always all the characters belong to Sarah J. Maas


	4. The need to hate you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this today after I ended my four year long relationship and had to escape my life somehow (evasion? no way) and I really hope you like it.
> 
> There is angst and smutt and a bit of explicit content, so all the things we love.This was initially going to be a separate publish from the series as a smutt but I decided to include it.
> 
> Once again all the characters (and a quote here and there) belong to Sara J. Maas <3

Rhysand had been given a cot next to the sarcophagus in which Feyre now lay sleeping. Some of her wounds had become infected because of the contact with the filthy walls of it and the healers had put her to rest for a while until the fever came down. He frowned at the box. He didn't think he was capable of doing this, it was one thing to distract her from her pain and listen to her troubled mind, but it was entirely different from sitting next to her as he watched them rip her body to shreds.

The third trial was only a week away, would it be worth it to say hell with it and kill the Attor the moment his contorted face came into the room? But this mountain was filled with creatures like him, more than willing to take his place and serve the Queen. Then there was that, even if he told her the mating bond was real and killed the torturer, there was little he could do beyond using his cunning to face Amarantha as he was standing on his own and without his power. Would Feyre even want the bond to be acknowledged by him? He had heard her still trying to convince herself Tamlin would come, and even if he didn't that they loved each other so fiercely it was impossible something like a mating bond connected her to another male. Destroying the only idea that kept her fighting seemed just the selfish thing to do.

The sound of chains shook him out of his plotting and he turned his head towards the coffin. She was awake. He wasn't sure of what he should do next, not wanting her to be taken out for the next session and being surprised by his presence, definitely not wanting her to fear him after they had reached this neutral ground. He carefully stepped at the edges of her mind.

_Where am I, where am I, where am I._

She was probably still disoriented by the fever and the long sleep.

_Darling._ Rhysand made his voice sound confident, cocky even.

_Rhys._ If anything, he was grateful for that, how she had chosen to use the name his friends gave him instead of his enemies.

_It seems our relationship has been updated to a roommate’s status._

Silence and then

_You are here?_

_The company up there didn’t really live up to my expectations._

_Are you helping them?_

Her voice turned hard and it took him a moment to understand what she meant, confused by the sudden change between them.

_The Attor? No Feyre, that's not why I came down for._

Annoyance came out of his response, he couldn't help it.

_Then why are you really down here?_

Because I´m your mate and they´re torturing me too, he wanted to say. But he couldn´t, so he offered her the next thing closest to the truth.

_Because Amarantha has a sick sense of humor._

He heard her huff inside the coffin. After that they remained in silence for hours, Feyre lost in her own thoughts and confusion, Rhysand steadying himself at the sound of her heartbeat. It didn't take long until the Attor´s talons resonated down the hall. All the calm he had managed to collect went out the window. He forced himself to put on his mask and receive the creature with a look of sheer boredom.

\- Well, look where the trash has been thrown. – Rhys let out a low growl in response. The Attor gave him a dismissive look and turned his attention to the metal box at the other side of the room.

\- It seems we are having an audience this time, my dear. Let's provide him with a spectacle worthy of his presence, shall we?

Feyre was fighting against her ragged breath, and he knew the Attor could hear her as well as a smile spread across his face. She had been through so much, even just this sessions had gone on for too long, too many times they had broken her bones, cut her open like an animal. With a nod from the creature, the guards entered the chamber and opened the lid from the coffin. Feyre was lifted like she weighed no more than a pair of slippers and dropped with such force over the stone table he winced. The shackles were on before she could draw out a breath.

\- I´ve prepared something special for today. I was looking for the right time, you know? I didn't want to waste my surprise.

Feyre refused to meet his stare and the Attor´s hand lifted and slapped her across the face with the back of his hand so hard she ended at the other end of the table. Rhysand was onto his feet in a flash. The Attor looked at him wickedly, defiance written all over his face and all Rhysand could do was turn to her mate.

_Feyre_

She took a moment to compose herself.

_Tell me about your parents._ Was her only answer.

Rhysand took a deep breath and stood there a couple of seconds before he commanded himself sit down again.

_What do you want to know?_

_What were they like? All cobwebs and evil, scheming in a dark palace?_

If it wasn't for the situation he would have snorted, of course she would have thought that. The Attor moved towards the table next to Feyre and he noticed how she kept her face towards her coffin, fixed on the drawings on the metal.

_As much as I appreciate your charming imagination there was none of that. Well, not much at least. My mother was a very loving female, fierce and wild, she made me everything I am today._

Not that she would have thought he was much at all after everything he had done to her. But Feyre remained quiet.

The Attor came back into vision, and the smell of smoke filled his nostrils. Rhysand didn't need to look any further to know what the monster had planned. A small torch was in his hands as he slowly approached his prey. Feyre´s panic at the view hit him through the bond.

_Don´t leave. Don´t leave me here._

_I´ll stay with you every step of the way, darling. I´ll take the pain away, Feyre._

He did, Rhysand summoned the scraps of power that lingered in him and started to numb her body in soft waves until she got used to the odd feeling, but even that couldn´t take away the scent of fear all over her. The Attor made the flame dance along the sides of her extended arms and Feyre tried to recoil from it despite not being able to feel it´s kiss on her skin.

Rhysand could barely breathe as the creature held her hand in a strong grip and the smell of burned skin filled the room. Feyre started screaming and he pushed another wave of power towards her body. Panic claimed every inch of him as he watched her shiver and cry at the touch of fire. She must have sensed it through the bond because her eyes were quickly over him and a strangled voice said in his mind

_I can´t feel it._ She assured him.

It barely made him feel any better. The Attor moved towards her legs and repeated the process while he had to remember himself over and over again there was no way he could take Feyre out of the mountain right now before Amarantha killed them both. He wanted to close his eyes, but they were fixed with horror at the sight of the blisters covering her skin. This was a new kind of nightmare, one he could´ve never even imagined.

So instead of talking, lost in the abhorrence that settled in his chest, he sent her images of how his life had been so she could drive her mind to a place far away from this wrecked excuse of a kingdom. The brightness of her mother´s black hair from a memory of a long time ago thrown party in the House of Wind, his brothers and himself covered in mud after fighting over who could climb higher one of the mountains at the Illyrian camp laughing while they walked back home, the sight of his Inner circle the last time he saw them splattered over his living room while taking turns to pick an absurd fight with Cassian. He felt Feyre´s mind take with awe each of his memories and long for them as her own, wanting to know the feeling of love and warmth again.

_Who are they?_

_My family._ He simply answered.

_Show me more._ She said.

Rhysand obeyed in silence, selecting for her the memories that had kept him alive for so long in this place. Through every scream that came out of her and every time the smell of melted skin hit him, he pushed Mor´s laughter and Cassian´s grins towards her. They repeated the process for what seemed like hours until the Attor was pleased enough to leave her panting over the table and put the torch back in place.

\- Very good performance, very good indeed. If you weren’t human filth, I would almost feel proud. – He said with mockery.

Both of them kept quiet as the creature moved out of the room, Feyre wasn't sure her chords would even respond anymore. The guards didn't bother putting her back in the box and as the door closed she gathered the force to turn her head to him and look into his eyes.

_I wish I had such a family, they must miss you a lot._

His heart cracked, not just for himself and the thought of his circle, but also for the loneliness that lingered in her voice. They stayed quiet until she fell asleep again, both of their minds entwined, like she was snuggling against him just for a second so she could rest and a last thought hit him before she had given herself to unconsciousness.

_Safe._ She said to herself. 

Somehow she felt safe with him.

* * *

She woke up a couple of days after the Attors visit. Rhysand had told her the healers came sometimes after everything had ended and cured her so she would be alive for the trials as the bargain demanded.

There were two days left for the trial, the first of which they had spent in silence, though not alone. Rhysand had shared some of his memories of the Night Courts view and she wished once more she would be able to paint just for the last time. When he'd finished Feyre had slipped herself some of her memories from the forest where she'd hunted and small fragments of the cabin her family had lived in. She found she had not that much of her own memories that were happy enough to bring any comfort and without a word they sunk together again in Rhysand´s recollections from the world centuries before she'd been born.

The last day though she was still in her coffin, as close to the grid that let air came in as she could when the door sounded open. She tensed and braced herself for what was about to come but Rhysand´s voice surprised her.

\- Yes? .- It sounded almost solemn.

\- The Queen has requested both of your presences at the throne room tonight, maidens will be sent in a couple of minutes to prepare you. – A female voice said. She wasn't totally surprised Amarantha wanted them to attend the party, it would be a last chance to laugh at her for all she cared.

As said, the maidens arrived and the lid was once again pushed to leave her out of it. She only got a glimpse of Rhysand´s face before he walked out the door to give her privacy and ready himself, where a hint of worry crossed his eyes.

The females bathed her, as filthy as she was, and Feyre savored the smell of soap against her skin. She was tattooed and clothed with the shameless dress she had worn what seemed ages ago. Her hair was just finished being arranged when Rhysand knocked on the door, like manners where something that still stood in this place. It had been hard to walk at first, her muscles slightly atrophied despite the healers best attempts to prevent it, so the maidens had to support her weight until she practiced enough so her legs could hold her again.

-Ready to go?

-Do I have a chance? – She walked towards him and wrapped her arm around his.

He didn't answer as they headed to the throne room and was panting from the effort of climbing the stairs. He gave her a concerned look and waited a moment for her to recover before entering the room.

She braced herself for what was coming when the doors slipped open, but to her surprise Amarantha wasn't there. She gave a confused look around and a curious Fae walked to their side.

-She´ll be here in a couple of minutes, she found something to... entertain her on the way here. – Feyre suppressed the need to shiver. Rhysand just nodded as he turned to her.

-Stay here, I´ll be right back. – And with that he turned his back to her and walked towards the end of the room. She wanted to ask him to stay, but pride took the best of her.

Feyre leaned against the wall, determined to survive today just enough so she could do what she had to tomorrow and be done with the nightmare that had them all falling to pieces. Just one more day. Tears filler her eyes, she was just so tired, even breathing sometimes felt like an effort. 

She was so lost in her thoughts a sudden touch in her fingers made her jump and when she looked at her side her heart skipped a bit. Tamlin was there, looking straight across the room though he was carefully touching her hand, giving her a last bit of courage to be done with this.

She was about to say something when he walked away and she stopped breathing until he looked back just long enough for her to understand and kept going. Feyre followed him quietly, careful not to draw any attention to them as she slipped inside an alcove room with the Lord of the Spring Court. His lips were on her before she could say something, like she had any idea of what could possibly tell him after all that had happened. His hands gripped her body and in a quick move she was almost slammed against the wall beside her. He kissed her like he couldn't have enough of her and there had barely passed seconds before she was reaching towards his belt and he pulled her dress up showing her breasts. He grabbed her with force and they spent minutes tracing their bodies with mouths, teeth and hands. 

-Shameful. - Feyre suddenly heard from the doorway and it was like a bucket of freezing water was dropped over her. – Just shameful, look at what you´ve done to my pet. - She heard the familiar voice said. 

Tamlin was still holding her when Rhysand approached them with disapproval written all over his face. Her breasts were still exposed and a shiver that had nothing to do with feeling cold run through her body. As Rhysand talked Tamlin slowly removed his hands and stepped away from her.

-Good, I´m glad to see you are being reasonable. Now, be a clever High Lord and buckle your belt and fix your clothes before you go out there. - She had forgotten how he sounded like when he used that tone, so different from the comfort he gave her during this week.s 

Fayre watched in panic how Tamlin followed Rhysand´s commands one by one and without a word coming out of his mouth he walked towards the door and left her with his enemy.

-Enjoy the party. - Rhysand said as the door closed.

She was ready for another round of their fights, trying to select the best insult that could come to her mind before Rhysand´s face changed so abruptly she bit her tongue. Every muscle in his face had gone utterly serious and a threatening calm took over his body as he gave two steps in her direction and pinned her to the wall of the alcove as his wings spread free. Cold stone kissed her exposed back and with a growl she lifted her hands to cover her chest with the scraps the male called clothe.

-You´re a fool. - His breathing was ragged. - Such a fool in believing you could deceive her. Do you know what would happen if she had cached you? To Lucien since you are so determined in calling him your friend?

Feyre tried to move away from his grasp but he didn't let go.

-So he ignores you for three months while you are being tortured and gets to take you without a word for your wellbeing? You can do better than that.

-Don´t you dare. - She gritted each word.- Don´t you even dare talk about him, what do you care about what happens with me anyway?

-What do I care?- Rhysand gave her an incredulous look. - If you even knew-

But all of a sudden, his body tensed as a predator had jumped in front of them and the next thing she knew was Rhysand was crushing his lips against hers and her eyes went fully opened in surprise, the wings had gone. He took the opportunity to brush his tongue against her lips and her traitorous body opened for him, letting him explore with soft, careful moves. It was then that she felt his hands roaming her thighs and Feyre broke the spell that held her frozen.

She pushed against him until her hands hurt and her cheeks went red with rage. But it was then when she heard the lock of the door open again and her voice made her clung to Rhysand for now entirely different reasons.

-Having fun dear? - Rhysand pulled away from her and she watched in horror as Amarantha appeared before her. Besides her Tamlin watched, his eyes widened at the view.

-Just enjoying my pet one last time before we have to say goodbye- Amarantha gave him a wicked smile and winked at him.

-We´ll leave you to it then, isn't that right Tamlin dear?

He didn't answer as the Queen walked away from them slamming the door shut.

At that something snapped inside Feyre, not the broken feeling that had taken over her after the second trial. No, it was a slow burning anger, the kind of fury that made her see red. With so much as a warning she threw herself at him and slammed her knuckles into him. She wanted to throttle him, not just for the assault, but for everything that had happened since she landed in here, before even. She hit his jaw and Rhysand gave a step away in surprise so she launched again, but this time he was prepared. He let her give him two more blows before he held her by the wrists, and she thought of biting his throat which made him frown at her.

-You did that on purpose

-Of course I did it on purpose, have you not heard anything I said? - Feyre was panting and a wave of sadness was rising upon her, but she didn't want to give in to it. She wanted the rage, to feel anything but the hole her chest had become.

-I hate you

Rhys' answer was quiet.

-I know

At the tone she lifted her gaze to him. Was that sadness too in his voice? They were so close they shared a breath now, his hands still holding her wrists. Did he even care about what she felt towards him? Something like anguish hit her and she tried to push away the intrusive feeling. 

-Rhys? - They locked eyes and she didn't know what had happened but somehow she could see for a second beyond his cocky grins and silver tongue. She needed to feel something else than this, anything at all but the sadness that had taken over both of them. She had no idea what to think about him anymore, she had no idea what she felt at all these days. So she finally yielded to it and leaned into him, just the few inches that separated them while he held unnaturally still and pressed her lips against his. She didn't think he was breathing anymore and was about to give up on her attempt when he responded ever so carefully.

That was all she needed and she let herself loose in the gentle brush of his lips on her before asking for more. She opened for him, letting his tongue take it´s time now and she felt him letting go of her hands. Both of their hearts beated like they were trying to run out from their chests and she didn't let herself think as she lifted her hands to his jacket. Rhysand took a deep breath but didn't break their union and waited a moment for her to decide before he placed his on her hips.

He´s touch was firm yet there was such gentleness in it she didn't know he was capable of. Her hands wandered through his chest and she didn't know how much time they were like that, with Rhysand drawing circles in her abdomen, roaming through her ribcage. She felt the warmth of comfort building in her stomach, a sudden rush of heat to her cheeks that didn´t respond to rage this time, like his gentleness had been able to touch that small thread of herself that remained buried somewhere she didn't have the key to anymore. She moved her head to the side, offering her neck. He took it, all she gave, he took. He drew kisses along her jaw, nibbled on her earlobe and started his journey down. When he found that space between her shoulder and her neck she felt him press his tongue against her for a moment before he sucked and Feyre saw glory.

A moan escaped her lips and Rhysand´s grasp became tighter.

-Feyre. -His voice came out of breath hidden in her neck. He tried to pull back from her, but she clenched her hands in his jacket.

-Please. - She just whispered back. She needed this, needed to forget everything, about herself, about Prythian, hell she needed to forget about the disappointment that made her heart clenched every time she thought about Tamlin.

So Rhysand kept going, taking only a second to decide before he continued his way of wet kisses towards her clavicle and Feyre´s hands found the hem of his shirt. She dared slip her finger under it and met the solid skin of his muscles. Rhysand let out a small groan against her and she felt her core heat at the sound of it. She pressed her palms against him and his hands dared higher brushing the sensitive skin of her breasts. A sight escaped her as she leaned her head back until it met the wall. She rested there, with eyes closed and biting her lips, she let the feeling of Rhysand´s hands exploring her body and the touch of his mouth go south with soft kisses here and there.

More. She wanted more. So Feyre pulled out his shirt in a clean move and when it was on the ground he paused to give her a wicked smile before he continued his work and slowly pressed a hand over one of her breasts. This time a groan of her own filled the alcove. Rhysand´s fingers found the folds of her dress and pulled it out of the way before his mouth found one of her nipples, his fingers expertly working on the other one. The warmness of his mouth made her see stars behind her eyes and she could swear she heard Rhysand chuckle for a second.

-Is this alright, darling? - He said against her skin. She couldn't talk, couldn´t even think straight so she just nodded.

His hands continued down his navel, his mouth never leaving her and his fingers stopped for a second at the fabric pooling at her hips. It was a second for her to reconsider, she noticed, but all caution had gone out the window minutes ago, or had it been hours? So she just pushed her hips against his hands and watched him kneel in front of her, gentle touches of his mouth wondering though her abdomen as he slid the dress down her legs. She was completely naked for him and could see his eyes drinking her in, taking upon every detail, every freckle of her skins.

Feyre couldn't take her eyes away from him either, the strong build of his back, the way his wings splayed at his sides; if she had time she could´have not resisted the temptation of painting him like this. His eyes never leaved hers as he curled a hand behind her knee and lead it to rest onto his shoulder. Her mouth parted. He smiled to her ever so slightly, just a secret between them, and kissed his way up her thigh until his lips found her folds.

She was soaking wet, and any other occasion she would´ve felt embarrassed, but she was too drawn into the hypnotic view displayed in front of her to care. He pressed against that spot that made her moan endlessly and her breathes were barely more than a rasp as he licked and sucked with his hands firmly holding her thighs as he had all the time in the world. He was gloating on her and it was a good thing her back was against the wall because she had no doubt her knees were about to fail her. He kept going until she couldn't look anymore and somewhere along the way Rhysand must have moved his hands because the next thing she knew was one of his fingers was at her entrance. His hand was considerably bigger than hers which made the feeling of one of them give her much more pleasure than her owns could provide.

-Rhys.

He slowly came into her and her back arched against his mouth as her fingers got lost in his hair pulling him slightly closer, as that was even possible. It felt like heaven and he started to slowly pump, building her until she couldn't discern where a moan started and the next one began. He kept going until his knuckles were dripping and pushed a second finger into her. 

-Rhys, I´m coming. - She managed to say. He pulled apart from her, making his thumb take the place of his mouth while he kept his pace and looked at her, his chin bright with her wetness.

-That's the point darling. - It was enough to make her reach that place where nothing else mattered. Rhysand held all of her weight as her back arched all the way, only a fragment of her head leaning against the wall now as her nails dug deep into his shoulders. He growled her name between her thighs at the view of it while she trembled and bit down her screams in his arms.

He waited until it was over to carefully leave her leg on the ground and rise to his feet. Hunger still crossed his face while she panted and leaned against his body feeling his hands caress her arms all the way to her shoulders. It had been reckless, she thought, and she would have to face the consequences of her actions. But she was not ready, not at all and there was something still pulling her towards him. She didn't want to leave this feeling, she realized, whatever it was, too much of her relied on this need now.

So she looked at him once more and couldn't tell what emotion had taken over him, his face a new kind of mask. Suddenly a thought shook her. Tamlin. What was she going to say? What was _he_ going to say? And even with the horror filling her body she didn't want to let go of the male in front of her.

-When we leave this room, none of this would have ever happened. - He told her. Fayre stared at him completely still. -I won't throw you to the lions and smile, Feyre, so whatever you want to do, now is the time.

She kept silent as tears started to cloud her vision and his face remained the portrait of determination, waiting for her to decide. She needed him, just if it was to say goodbye and never look away, even if it was the most selfish kind of act. She needed it in order so she could say goodbye tomorrow even if it wasn´t with words. Even if it was to Rhysand.

So she breathed him in and kissed him one more time. Softly at first, and he received her with no doubt this time, after a few seconds the weight of her decisions choked her and she turned the kiss to a demand. A kiss filled with desperation and longing for the male in front of her and she sunked her fingers in his hair just to feel him closer.

-Feyre. - It was now his turn to plead. He knew what she was doing, that after they walked out of that door they would never feel each other's skin again. So, he met her desperation with his own, taking her thighs up around his torso and pushing her against the wall with a tenderness that broke her heart.

He wanted to take his time, to kiss every inch of her skin and admire her every move and sound, but they didn't have that kind of time, so this angry farewell was all they could give to each other until the world could be an entirely different place. She pushed his head towards him like she could never have enough of it and bit his lip with such force it drew blood. Neither of them cared.

Rhysand cupped her breasts as Feyre gasped for air between kisses and as she wrapped her legs harder around him, her center found the solid muscles of his stomach where she encountered unexpected friction. It was such a surprise Rhysands failed to reprimand a groan with a bite to her shoulder and she almost sob with the sudden release, so she kept going.

-Feyre. - It was almost a warning, but it drew both of them mad from pleasure. She kept rubbing against his torso until he was almost entirely covered in her scent and she knew could find her climax again, but she needed _him._

She forced herself to stop just enough to get his belt and pants out of the way as drops of sweat run from both of their backs. She held him on her hand and stroked a couple of times until she dared meet his gaze again.

It would always amaze her how similar they were to the night sky, full of stars and distant galaxies. She could lose herself in his eyes and wouldn't mind at all, she thought, while a darkness enveloped both of them like a blanket. She looked at her side and realized he had closed his wings upon them, protecting them from every cruel thought and threat outside of them, just for this moment.

-It´s true isn't it? - Feyre whispered looking back into his eyes. Rhysand took a moment before he answered, like he was appreciating every line and shadow of her before she vanished in the air.

_It is._ He said into his mind. 

Feyre just nodded and lifted her hands to his shoulders, then, slowly leaned to leave a small kiss on his neck. It was like she had always been his, like he was some sort of missing piece she had no idea was missing and while she adjusted to him and they just stood there, memorizing their bodies, panting slightly over the same breath, over and over. It could´ve been centuries for all she cared before he started moving until she could cry in his arms for just the feeling of it and he would hold her for every one of them. She didn't let herself feel sorry for what was to come, that would be something she'd face tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So is it headed in the direction you thought? Next chapter will probably be the last (or maybe 2 more, we´ll see) and I´m kind of excited.


	5. Feyre Cursebreaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***So you are probably not going to like this, but... I changed the end of the chapter. I know I published it a couple of days ago so most of you have already read it (sorry

None of them could sleep that night. After what happened in the alcove, he deposited Feyre with gentleness on the ground and, silently, they shared a last glance before she walked out the room and back to her coffin. _Like she had already accepted death before it had come,_ he thought bitterly.

He didn't want to think about what Amarantha had made of their indiscretion, if it would've been better to face her rage when she found her in Tamlin´s arms or the delight she must have felt when she saw her in his. He didn't know what she thought about the bond anymore, but the so said Queen was an old faerie, and as any of them, she would play every move to her advantage and most absolute delight. Cruelty had a high position in that regard.

So, he waited until he sensed Feyre had found her way back to the cell they shared, took a deep breath and went into the throne room with cockiness written all over his face. He had to admit, he didn't have to try that hard when Tamlin´s gaze slid towards him. They had lost the advantage of their distance, so he would now have to play it like he had used and discarded her like no more than a toy to fuel his feud with the High Lord of the Spring Court.

He spent the rest of the night trying to make the most of the scene, he kept his tousled hair from where Feyre had grabbed him and walked around with a grin as the guests looked scandalized at how her scent was all over him. She would´ve hated him even more if she´d saw what he was doing, and he thanked for the small mercy of putting on a last show without her presence.

When he came back to the room, Rhysand knew she was awake. They didn't talk for most of the night, but they kept each other company lost in their thoughts. He stood on the edge of hers, letting her know he'd be there until it was time for them to face whatever awaited the next morning, and though she didn't answer a small wave of gratefulness met him from across the room.

He fixed his eyes on the metal box and for a second he debated on reaching towards her and laying her in his mattress just so he could hold her and give her the only thing he had to offer in his position: a bed. But his fear was too great, they had already risked too much, and he still couldn't really tell how she felt about him, so he rolled over his side and stared at the box until dawn pulled them apart. 

* * *

The morning arrived faster than she would´ve wanted. She heard the door bang open and a moment later the coffin was opened and a familiar pair of hands of the guards pulled her out of the box and almost threw her to her knees.

She stood there for a second and raised her head to face who must have been at the other side of the room, but she was only greeted by an already made bed and silence. Feyre didn´t know if she felt disappointed or relieved, but before she could decide she was taken by the arms once more and pushed down the hall. It was then when fear hit her, and she had to bite her lip to fight the urge of kick and trash against the guards that were half leading half dragging her to the throne room. She forced herself to remain calm, to breathe. In the end, she told herself, this was just the last test she'd have to face before she could let go completely. 

They reached the throne room doors and Feyre took the moment they waited before entering, to fully collect herself and put on a fighting face. She would not fail, and she would not let Amarantha rejoice in her fear. Feyre let out a deep breath and the doors opened for her to either save Prythian or die trying. She took a step in and watched the red Queen looking at her with narrowed eyes and a wicked smile far from the other side of the room. At her side, Tamlin was sitting like he was no more than a marble statue, his features hard and serious as he set his eyes in something further away from her, rejecting to acknowledge her in any possible way. It hurt, but not as badly as it had been the past few months.

As she walked to the throne, she found herself looking for another faerie, wandering through a room full of pointed ears and sharp eyes for the comfort of black curls and a violet gaze. But before she could examine any further, she was before her captor and had to turn her full attention to the general.

\- Some last words, dear? – Amarantha clicked her tongue, and almost seemed to beam with excitement in her chair. Feyre held the need to shiver in disgust. She turned to Tamlin and her throat closed, tears threatened to start rolling but she refused to let any vulnerability show, she´d given enough.

Just weeks ago, she would have told him she loved him, that all of this had been for him, for them and the short future she could offer with her human mortality. But now, she didn´t know which part scared her more and she wasn't brave enough to face the possibility it might not be true anymore. So she said the next thing that she could promise him.

\- You gave me a home when I thought there was nothing the world could offer me, that there was nothing I could demand from it. But I do now, I´ve learned to hope for love, to cherish it and to fight for something else than survival. So today it´ll be the last time I fight to survive Tamlin, and it will be worth it if it will keep the world you showed me from disappearing.

He didn't answer. Didn't even dare to look at her while she said what she hope wasn´t goodbye, but she recognized a glimpse of emotion going through his eyes for a moment and it was enough to calm the deep ache in her chest.

\- Yes, all very sweet and loving. – Amarantha rolled her eyes. – But did your insect-like brain manage to solve the riddle?

Feyre stood quiet and the Queen let out a loud laugh, but no one in the audience followed, a small sign of resistance for her to make her last stand and she silently thanked them for their courage. The woman let out a snort and looked at her nails with a last show of disdain before she said.

\- It 's getting late. You better start honey, we don't want to distract you with unnecessary nervousness. – She gave her a poisonous smile and with a movement of her chin indicated behind her.

Feyre turned just the moment the wooden doors were opened, and the guards walked in with three hooded figures shackled in front of them. Her breath caught in her throat. Slowly she advanced towards the faeries who were thrown to their knees just like she had been moments before, and only when she stood in front of them she noticed each guard was also holding a red pillow where an ash dagger rested. She felt bile coming up her throat.

\- So, this is the last test Feyre, kill three faeries to prove your love for the High Lord and you can walk out of here. You killed your way into Prythian after all, this can´t be so unfamiliar.

She winced at that and became aware her head was moving, side to side. She couldn't do this, it was not fair. She couldn't drag anyone else into this, it was her mess to clean up and no one else's. Her heart started hammering against her ribs and she felt the floor moving under her feet.

\- We don't have all day. – Amarantha pressed.

Feyre moved towards the guards and noticed she was shaking.

_Breath, Feyre._

Her knees almost gave when his voice filled her head. She didn't dare to look back, she was afraid that if she looked anyone in the eyes, she wouldn't be able to do it.

Feyre reached a hand towards the dagger and felt the cold weight of it in her hand. Her breath was ragged and when she lifted if Amarantha´s voice filled the room again.

\- Not so fast.

The hood of the first faerie was lifted, and a young male was uncovered with a face full of tears. He was from the summer court, she noticed by the color of his skin, and it became too much. Her own sobs escaped her lips and something broke inside her as she lifted the knife once more and ignored the faeries pleads and drew it across his chest.

She heard the body fell with a thud and watched her hands with horror. They were shaking so badly it was almost like a blur of blood in front of her. Except it was no longer the males blood, but her own. Her mind cracked completely, and she could see where the Attors tools had taken her nails apart, broke her fingers and pierced her skin. She could feel every bit of pain she had avoided these past weeks, the memories of the creature´s delights when her skin was burned or when she had been stripped naked and they'd throw buckets of cold ice water until her teeth chattered. Her mind was filled with layers of trauma she could not escape anymore, his blood awfully like her own had been.

She could not see the room anymore, all she felt was the quick shallow breaths that made her ribs hurt and the image of her blood running through the table of her cell towards the ground.

_My blood, my blood, my blood._

But it wasn't her blood, no, it was the faerie´s. And as she focused her sight again in her sticky hands, her body gave in and she threw up next to the body.

_Feyre._

The voice finally made it through her panic, it had been there all along, talking to her like a mumbling presence only to be pushed away by the memories, but it had somehow managed to anchor itself to her, stubbornly fighting to stay despite her resistance.

_Feyre, you are here now darling. Just a little more._

And with that new images started to fill her head, the ones were Lucien had managed to visit her and talk soothing words every now and then, sneaking small plates of food she'd taken with tears in her eyes, memories of their conversations when he had shown her images of his brothers and mountains covered by snow and moonlight, the ones herself had shown him, of her sisters and the cabin even when that seemed more bittersweet than anything else. At last, he showed her their memories from last night, a twirl of mixed emotions and the feeling of skin against skin, the fondness with which he´d held her and the reverence of those kisses.

_It will not be in vain._

Was all he said, and he gave her a moment before she could compose herself again and look at her hands with regret, but also, with the determination she´d collected these past months. _It will not be in vain._ She repeated to herself and straightened again.

Amarantha´s laughs could be heard on the back as she approached the next guard.

\- I wonder who will win the bet on this trial, dear. I hear the movement of coins. – She teased, but it could not be farther from the truth. The room was in complete silence, too impacted by the scene to do anything else but stare and cry.

The next faerie was a young woman, her eyes were closed and she kept praying, all the way until Feyre found the courage and stabbed her straight through the heart. There was only one left and despite the tears that still rolled down her face, the wobbling of her knees and the exhaustion that had taken over her spirit she walked towards the last faerie with a ragged breath.

All determination vanished when the hood was lifted, and deep violet eyes returned her horrified stare.

The knife fell from her hand and for a second all that could be heard in the room was the one of metal against marble. Then Amarantha laughed.

\- Is there a problem?

\- Not… not fair. - Was all she managed to say.

\- Fair? I didn´t know you humans understood the concept. – Rhysand´s eyes were still on her, sadly watching the tears roll down her cheeks. – You see it occurred to me, what greater proof of your love than to kill your own mate? After all, if you love the High Lord of the Spring Court enough to have come here voluntarily, made a bargain, stood our customs and killed faeries, what are the limits of your love Feyre? Unless… it is with your mate your heart stands with, and you´ll prove you are just another human liar just as I knew you were all this time.

Feyre kept her eyes locked with his. That was why he wasn't in their shared cell when the guards had taken her out, why she hadn't seen him in the throne room the moment she came in. He had kept her going even when he knew it would be his turn to give his life for Prythian.

\- The rest of the courts really missed a story here, so let me tell you what has been happening. – Amarantha went on. – Rhysand dear here, proved himself to be a traitor all along. He saw a pretty human and all sense of loyalty flew out the window. – She focused her attention on him.- But I have your power and, oh it is a great one, so every time you took her pain away, every time you shared those precious little secrets in the comfort of your minds, I was there with you. So, what a delight it was to make you both feel the warmth of a mating bond, to cherish one another, just so you could watch each other shred apart for the one you so desperately wanted. But I´m not unfair, Feyre, in that you are wrong. The decision… is ultimately yours.

Tamlin or Rhys. Prythian or her mate.

Feyre had frozen in place.

\- Do it. – A different voice came from her back this time. She turned to face Tamlin, begging she'd heard wrong. – He is a monster, Feyre. You are not to blame for the mate that has been given to you, the Cauldron works in odd ways. But when this is done, you and I, we'll be free to live our lives as we imagined, Feyre.

Amarantha´s nostrils flared in anger, but she let him speak, probably deciding the benefits surpassed the costs. She could not believe it. The first words he had deigned to her and were directed towards his desires, his dreams of a life fulfillment despite her suffering. And regardless of her confusion and the lingering question of where her heart stood, the selfishness of the statement brought her so much pain she was surprised she was still standing.

\- Enough now. A decision Feyre. – The Queen cut.

So she looked at him. His mate, she could _feel_ him despite her human senses, a fire-like feeling that pulled her towards him, where she knew safety awaited her. He must have read it because a small smile appeared in his lips and his voice filled her mind once again.

_Do it, darling._

_Live a long, joyous life, Feyre._

She took a step forward and knelt in front of him.

_I can´t._ She just said, she´d known him for no longer than three months and had hated him for more than half of that, but he´d become some fundamental part of her that had managed to keep her standing even when she'd lost all will to fight.

_You are a huntress._

_You are a warrior._

_And after this, it will all be over._

It was hard to hear him over her sobs. They came in waves, so violent her whole body shook with enough force to fall forward. She raised her hands to her face as she could take them away and felt the hot breath of him nexby her ear.

_You´ll get to rest, Feyre, and it would be the greatest honor of my life to protect your own. So do it, darling._

_Fight to live another day._

To save Prythian. That's what she had said when she walked into the trial, she´d save the world that had saved her in the first place. A world where faeries flew and swam in joy, where kindness was shown to her for the first time and she had a place to call home. How many faeries would die if she chose him? What kind of life could he even have in this place if she chose her own weakness?

She raised her face to him and Rhysand stared into her, his partner in this wicked reality that had taken form Under the Mountain. They didn't say anything else, there was too much to say and not enough time, so he gave her a slight nod.

Without taking her eyes off of him, she reached for the ash knife that had been forgotten on the floor.

_I´ll find you._ Was the last thing she said as she lifted the knife and in a quick movement and pierced his heart as she shattered her own. He let out a small grunt and fell forward, his weight resting on her now.

The sound of shock and cries went through the room and she was distantly aware of her own sobs as she struck Rhysands body on her lap. She didn't know how much time passed before the commotion started to dissipate.

\- Free us, she won. – A voice shouted from the crowd.

Amarantha´s voice was delighted as she had seen the best play of her immortal life.

\- Oh, but I'm afraid Feyre did not specify _when_ I should free you, so that will remain up to me.

Feyre had seen this coming but she didn't care anymore, it didn't seem to make any difference now. She lowered her gaze to the male resting on her thighs and her heart seemed to stop at the sight of him, paler than she'd ever seen him.

_For though each of my strikes lands a powerful blow,_

_When I kill you I do it slow…_

She was dying, if she wasn´t, she didn't have any other words to describe what had taken upon her body.

_But scorned, I become a difficult beast to defeat._

Rhysand, he´d given everything, even when there was no hope left to care.

_But I bless those who are brave enough to dare._

Something squeezed in her mind as tears catch in her eyelashes. That was it, she´d recited it so many times in her coffin, pondered so many options and it never finished to make sense. But now, it was like every verse had a new meaning now.

\- Love. – She whispered.

The room went quiet again and she could feel how the courts were holding their breaths now. Feyre raised her gaze from her mate and looked directly into Amarantha´s eyes. For the first time the general looked petrified.

\- The ans -

But before she could continue her throat closed and all air seemed to leave her body. Feyre raised her hands to her neck in desperation and Amarantha´s power squeezed harder. Then, hell broke loose.

Faeries from all courts seemed to move at the same time, some going after the Queen, others running towards the doors, but before Feyre could discern what was happening a sharp pain took over every nerve in her body. The sound of bone cracking under pressure came to her ears but she couldn't scream. Her ribs, her kneecaps and then her wrists, Amarantha was snapping her bones while faeries threw themselves against her to buy her the chance of distraction so she could answer the riddle. But she couldn't do anything, she couldn't even scream from the agony.

Tears stung in her eyes and she scratched her neck until it bled. Just before darkness started to blind her vision, she felt it. Darkness was hovering over her, flying around her in anguish, trying to soothe her one last time before it was too late. She clung to him, with teeth and claws she let him hug her in a veil of warmth and was about to let go completely when air passed through her again and her chest rose with a worrying sound.

\- Now Feyre! – It was Lucien´s voice. She couldn't see anymore, she was too passed gone for that, but she recognized the sound in his plea.

The riddle.

\- The answer… – Her voice came out with a whistle full of blood- is love.

And with that the next thing she knew was the roaring of a beast now near her and a last crack that brought deep waves of pain took over her before there was anything else to understand.

For a moment there was nothing at all, not even her. But then a tickling sense seemed to poke at her with loving insistence. She wanted to wave it away, but it kept hovering around her and she remembered the way the state´s horses nudged her with their muzzles asking for apples and treats. She finally gave in and tried to fight against the fog clouding her mind. Darkness enveloped her once more, moving around her in awe and though she didn´t have a body Feyre pulled herself against the welcoming presence. They almost seemed to play, gently pushing each other and dancing around one another´s essence.

She wanted to speak, to say so much that had been left without a chance to be explained. Feyre turned towards the shadow and suddenly she could no longer find it, she turned over herself in panic, lost, and then somehow, she could see again. She watched from the distance how faeries gathered around broken bodies, how males she´d only seen in quick encounters looked solemnly at the remains of a mighty High Lord and a human girl. Drops of something bright fell from their hands and into his chest and she pressed closer with curiosity as she watched his eyelids carefully move in distress.

Feyre let out something like a gasp and retreated. She was no longer exhausted, and she knew she could go on, but there was still so much for her to do. To cry and grieve about, but also so much love for her to embrace. She could feel it, waiting for her in silent patience, asking for her to wait. There was still that insisting pull and she lingered there, too afraid to move in any direction. It was then when she sensed the darkness again, a gentle caress that folded over herself and seemed to shush her into calmness. So she stayed there and when she seemed to almost fall asleep between the velvet touch of whatever spirit was around her, she let it take over her.

* * *

Rhysand waited for her in the throne room, his eyes fixed on her as they had been just the night before. It had taken a few growls from the High Lords to finish the task of gifting them a new chance in this new world, but after Rhysand had shown them every scene and plot that had happened since his mate had come into their nightmare while he was hooded on the floor, repaying for their sacrifice had come naturally to them in their eager to build a new order. Slowly the remaining High Lords walked past them, anxious to gather their courts and run to their families. All except one.

Tamlin remained standing just a few feet from were they lay. Rhysand´s attention was still on her spirit, calming the frantic feeling that had taken over her and soothing her with tendrils of power, keeping her safe until she could decide. But the male approached anyway and Rhysand couldn´t help the growl that left his chest.

\- She might want to go back to the Spring Court.

\- You would like that, wouldn´t you?

\- You can forbid her to.

\- Of course I can´t. But what an arc of redemption would you need after all that has happened here. If she goes with you Tamlin, you better thank the Cauldron every day of your existence for the forgiveness that has been given to you, knowing it´s too big for you to wear.

Tamlin´s claws peaked over his knuckles and the hair from his neck seemed to raise in anger, but he stood quiet. They waited in silence, patiently, until Rhysand felt her leave the pocket he´d made for her and anxiety crept up his body. Only a moment passed before they watched her chest rise slightly and leaned over her. Feyre´s eyes slowly opened, and they let her take over her surroundings.

\- Feyre? – Tamlin was the first to speak as he took a step forward.

But she didn´t look at him. Instead she turned to the other male at her side and it was Rhysand´s turn to hold his breath. They looked at each other just as they had before, when there were no words that could comfort them, and he leaned forward in a silent question.

* * *

She had barely an idea of what had happened throughout the last part of the trial, but there was only one thought that kept pounding in her head.

Her mate.

Feyre looked at Rhysand almost afraid of what she would find there, but all questions disappeared as she watched him kneeling at her side, almost too afraid to breathe. Like he´d scare her away with any sudden movement, but it was suddenly all so clear. She had resisted that thing pulling her towards him for enough. He had walked by her side through every torment, every deep cut of the blade and asked nothing from her but to hold on. It was not only the mating bond asking her to seek him, but the memory of all the sacrifices made, all the hours in quiet company and fierce loyalty he´d given her without a second thought. Slowly, Feyre raised her hand and rested it on his chest.

It was all he needed to reach over and carefully pull her to him. Feyre met the solid presence of his chest and buried her face in it, the smell of rain, salt and citrus filled her nose and new tears rolled down her eyes.

_Hello, Feyre Darling._

A whisper filled her head and she clenched to him, feeling Rhysand stroke her hair.

They held each other like that until every Fae had left the room and the name “Feyre Cursebreaker” was spread across Prythian like fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I couldn´t fit all of the ending in one chapter and thought there were enough things happening in this one anyways. If you read both endings which one did you like more?
> 
> There are a couple of important conversations having place in the next one, sort of like an epilogue, I hope you liked it!


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